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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29883690">Thin Soup</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elennalore/pseuds/elennalore'>elennalore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meanwhile in Ost-in-Edhil [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Caretaking, Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ost-in-Edhil, POV Alternating, Poor Celebrimbor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:31:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29883690</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elennalore/pseuds/elennalore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief interlude of peace between nightmares.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Meanwhile in Ost-in-Edhil [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Thin Soup</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Celebrimbor wakes up from a nightmare.</p><p>He remembers a horrible golden light, but now he opens his eyes into complete darkness that feels almost comfortable. His eyes are sore; his head is throbbing. The fear is still lingering in the back of his mind - a remnant of a nightmare. He tries to push it away.</p><p>It’s so hard to think clearly. He can’t see his surroundings; he doesn’t know where he is. There’s no pain, at least not like there was before, in a nightmare. But there’s this dull throbbing ache all over his body. There’s a sudden spasm in his throat when he takes a deep breath. He can’t move his arms, and when he tries to, he’s seized by a muscle cramp in his shoulder. Something is not right, but he doesn’t have energy left to wonder what it means.</p><p>The place smells like a neglected cellar. So he didn’t wake up in his bed, that’s weird. His cheek lies against a hard surface. It’s cold there, he should get a blanket. But when he tries to rise to his feet something holds him down. He hears the sound of chains clanking against a stone floor; he is restrained like he was in the nightmare.</p><p>Now the fear rises again and he’s overwhelmed by it. He had believed the nightmare had ended, but is it really so? His memories are hazy, and he’d rather not think about what little he remembers.</p><p>Once at least while lying there he cries for help, but his voice is oddly weak in his own ears. His lips are cracked; his mouth feels dry and sticky. He needs water, but he’s alone and helpless. What can he do? He tries to crawl but the chains tighten behind him, not letting him move much. He has no strength left to fight them. He feels so cold. Time passes. Celebrimbor is not sure if it’s been hours or days; he has lost the sense of time.</p><p>Suddenly, he’s not alone anymore, and the darkness gives way to a golden glow. Annatar has finally found him. For a fleeting moment the eerie glow fills him with terror, reminding him of the nightmare he doesn’t want to remember anymore. But Annatar speaks to him in a soothing voice and helps him sit up on his lap, embracing him. Annatar takes care of him. He carefully washes his skin with a wet cloth. Celebrimbor is suddenly aware of his nakedness and the filth, but it feels so good that he soon relaxes in his touch nevertheless. Next, Annatar washes his hair in a washbasin. Celebrimbor shuts his eyes, enjoying the sheer bliss as Annatar’s gentle hands massage his scalp. Annatar is humming softly as he works and the throbbing pain in his head gradually subsides.</p><p>Annatar doesn’t ask him any questions and for some reason it feels better this way. Celebrimbor would have already embraced his friend, but his hands are still chained behind him. He doesn’t dare to think of what it means so he concentrates on Annatar’s hands caressing his cheeks and ears and neck instead.</p><p>Celebrimbor must have dozed off there, for he wakes up when a mug of water is held against his lips. He takes a sip of water, then another. Too soon Annatar takes the mug away.</p><p>“Not so fast, Tyelpë, you’re still weak.”</p><p>“Annatar,” he pleads, he’s still thirsty. It’s difficult to form words. But soon he feels something else against his lips and smells the heavenly aroma of soup. It’s a metal spoon from the kitchen. Celebrimbor opens his mouth to receive a spoonful of warm, thin soup. It’s the best thing he has ever tasted.</p><p>“Mm-mm,” he says as he swallows, and lets Annatar feed him a second spoonful.</p><p>* * * * *</p><p>Annatar doesn’t want to go back to the nightmare yet.</p><p>He’s Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, but Tyelpë stubbornly refuses to take the gifts he has been offered. Annatar doesn’t enjoy hurting him and he dreads to think what may happen before Tyelpë sees the error of his ways. He doesn’t want to go there yet. Let there be only the present moment for now.</p><p>He’s holding Tyelpë on his lap, feeding him the thin soup he has brought from the kitchen. It’s an affectionate act, feeding someone like this, and something he has never done before. He must be careful not to spill the soup on him. Still, as Tyelpë swallows down soup, spoonful after spoonful, some of it is always dripping from the corner of his mouth. Annatar wipes it away with the wet cloth.</p><p>Tyelpë is not shivering anymore. Annatar has been warming him with his inner heat, lovingly cuddling him in the otherwise cold cellar room. There’s even light now; the cellar is illuminated by his own, glowing skin. Tyelpë doesn’t struggle anymore, he has finally accepted the chains. Annatar gives him yet another spoonful of soup and watches his throat moving as he swallows. It will strengthen him. For a while, he had been afraid that he had gone too far, that he would lose the elf. It had been a horrible moment, when Tyelpë had stopped breathing for a while. He can’t lose him, not now. It would be almost as bad as losing his ring.</p><p>Annatar puts the soup bowl away and helps Tyelpë back on the floor. It’s enough for now. But when he bends over the elf, analysing his recovery, there’s a dawning horror in Tyelpë’s eyes and his body tenses.</p><p>“Don’t think about it now,” Annatar says soothingly. “This is a good moment. Let’s not ruin it.”</p><p>Very slowly, he bends down to kiss him. After a moment’s hesitation, Tyelpë answers his kiss. His mouth tastes of soup he has been eating. But the good moments never last. During the kiss, Annatar’s tongue accidentally finds the gap where some teeth are missing. He should have remembered; he has pulled them out himself. As his tongue touches the sore spot, blood bursts into Tyelpë’s mouth.</p><p>The taste of blood makes Tyelpë struggle again, he trashes his head from side to side, gentleness of the kiss already forgotten. Annatar retreats, knocking over the bowl by accident. The rest of the soup is spilled onto the floor, next to Tyelpë who lies there, shivering again, but this time with fear.</p><p>And Annatar knows that their shared nightmare has begun once more.</p>
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